I'm So Tired (London)

Hello dear reader. Today's title is another Beatles classic, I'm so tired from the celebrated The Beatles album, popularly referred to as the White Album. The explanation later. For the song, not why the album is not called by its name.

First, I have a confession to make. Suddenly I feel like a character in a sitcom or a B grade movie. You know the storyline, where the two characters despise each other and suddenly realise there is an attraction to the other. Cue the inevitable sexual tension and growing awkwardness of the situation. So here am I not hating London so much. It is an unsettling feeling. Perhaps being squired around town and being provided with an insider's view is what I needed all along. Perhaps.

Greenwich

Breakfast today was in Greenwich. We ditched the Borough market and will explore it tomorrow morning. There are multiple ways to get to Greenwich. The Uber ferry being the most expensive and various iterations of the Underground and Light Rail being more acceptable options. As usual the day began with a walk. Today, across the London Bridge to Bank Station to catch the light rail to Cutty Sark station which, in reality, is Greenwich.

The trip was uneventful and we were at the Greenwich Market searching for food about 30 minutes after opening time. Alleged opening time. Much like Shoreditch yesterday there was a lot of space to erect stalls and the Antique Market down the road was not open at all.

Being peckish, we made our way to the very limited food offerings, none of them appealing. Back out onto Church Street in search of a place that offered good food, passable coffee and warmth. There were numerous options but Peyton & Byrne, the modern British Bakery, was the winner. No dabbling with potentially weak coffee today - it was double espresso. An excellent choice. Accompanied by a three cheese toasty to warm the soul.

Not much to look at from the outside.

Body restored, we ventured back out into the cold and popped into the nearest church. Come now dear reader. You know me better than that, it's a local attraction. St Alfege's - King Henry VIII was baptised here. I don't think it influenced his later behaviour. Then again ... 

The church itself has quite a history, collapsing on itself after a decision to allow the crypt to be open for all burials, thus undermining the foundations. It was also destroyed, desecrated was the term used, by the "enemy" during WWII. The latest iteration sports a massive organ. Now dear reader, don't be like that, a pipe organ. There is also the obligatory stained glass window and unusually, a chandelier.

Leaving the church, we saw the antique market was completely closed, gated and padlocked. Disappointing. So it was back to the markets. More shops and stalls had opened but it was clearly a shadow of what it would be on weekends. Still, the crocheted flowers grabbed my attention. In 2024 do we really need crocheted flowers? I think not.

What visionary came up with this concept?

From the markets, we walked a short way to where the Cutty Sark sits atop a wooden frame a long way from the water. Curious behaviour to spend £25M to restore a ship and then encase it in plastic and glass. It would have been a better attraction floating in the Thames. No, we did not venture inside.

Looks longingly towards the Thames.

Following the Thames is the Greenwich Walk, a 1 mile (1.6 km) path that traverses the Old Royal Naval College, a rather impressive looking building with expansive grounds. The first statue I came across was Sir Walter Raleigh. He gets a mention in the song of today's post,

"I'm so tired, I'm feeling so upset

Although I'm so tired, I'll have another cigarette

And curse Sir Walter Raleigh

He was such a stupid git"

Spare a cigarette?

Raleigh of course introduced tobacco to England in 1586. Its effect still lingers today given the number of smokers encountered. Have they missed the health messages over here? Obviously in 1968, John Lennon wasn't thrilled about it either. We shall return to Sir Walter later.

Do they serve flag ale? Yeah, a joke from the '70s.

The path continued past an interesting pub, The Trafalgar, that had adorned itself and the neighbouring area with the Union Jack and maritime signal flags.

Well placed bins for a photo opportunity.

A wall of street art. No Banksy.

It ended as abruptly as a bike path in Sydney, at a point of no particular interest, another pub, the Cutty Sark Inn. We turned and strolled back to the light rail station, passing the same route but out on the street rather than along the river path. This took us past the Queen's House, the Royal Observatory, Greenwich University and the Naval Museum.

The Queen's House. Really? How many does she need? She's not even alive.

The Naval Museum.

Had we explored the multiple museums in Greenwich, we would have been there for days. Instead we jumped the light rail for a more problematic return journey due to disruptions on the line. This was exacerbated by the pathetic signage at Canary Wharf while transiting from the light rail to the underground. The navigation skills of Sir Walter were required, not to mention fortitude to fight our way through the lunchtime crowds where no quarter is given. We were back at the hotel mid afternoon to enjoy our complimentary drink and chat with some of the staff. It was a slow day in the bar.

So, controversial, but extremely funny.

Pizza

Yes pizza, my dear reader. In my quest to be disappointed around the world, I make every attempt to sample pizza in each country I visit. Armed with two recommendations, Pizza Pilgrims and Giuseppe's Ristorante Italiano and Pizzeria, there was a choice to be made. Giuseppe's was the winner because it is a restaurant and offers a variety of food. Not that I was eating anything but pizza.

Giuseppe's is about a 10 minute walk from the hotel and directly opposite the Borough Markets. Through an old archway on the main street there is a non-descript door that opens on to a landing and another door and down the stairs to the restaurant. It is like entering a dungeon. The restaurant itself is quite cosy, tables are very close, but today, we were the only customers. It was mid-afternoon and we hadn't booked, getting a table wasn't a problem but would the pizza oven be hot enough?

The answer to that question is, not quite. The garlic bread was very good as was the pizza. It would have benefited from a slightly hotter oven to char the dough a little more. Otherwise, no complaints. I could be a regular if I lived here.

Back to the hotel for a nightcap and some blogging before bed.

Borough Market

A bit obvious.

Our breakfast destination today is the Borough Market. After a quick catch up with one of the children and two of the grandchildren this morning, we wrapped ourselves in scarves and coats, walked out into the grey 7° morning and turned towards the market. Unlike Shoreditch and Greenwich, Borough was fully operational and pumping.

That is a mountain of comté.

This place is just amazing. If I lived in the area, I doubt I would ever cook. No that's wrong, I would cook because of all the fresh produce available. Had we been staying in an AirBnB we would have been purchasing all our food requirements here. Cheeses, fruit, vegetables, breads, pastries, meat, seafood, pasta, cured meats, spices, olive oils, pies, the list and the stalls go on. There were also restaurants surrounding the markets and an area out the back where stalls served hot food from a variety of cuisines.

The picture does not do this justice. OMG!

Bread Ahead provided our croissant, pain au chocolat and spinach feta pastry for sustenance and Colombia Coffee provided the liquid gold. No pretending this morning, espresso and double espresso. The only downside is that there are not a lot of casual seating options. What is available serves a purpose, but a few café style areas with heaters would be excellent.

Turkish delight anyone? So much choice.

After several traverses of the market, we went to explore Southwark Cathedral. On the way, a short deviation from the market to the cathedral found us outside the renowned dark blue front door of Bridget Jones (of diary fame). Sadly no Colin Firth (says Jayne) loitering around so after the photo of the house front façade, we headed around the corner to take a tour of the Cathedral.

Another great pun.

Southwark Cathedral

The Cathedral is surrounded by the markets, London high rise offices and a school. To gain entrance we had to almost circumnavigate the building. In doing so, we discovered a small viewing area that looked across the Thames. Inscribed on the wall was a quote from Sir Walter Raleigh. No, it wasn't "spark up boys, let's hear it for big tobacco". It was, "There are two things scarce matched in the universe, the sun in heaven and the Thames on earth". And that from an explorer.  Perhaps he explored the wrong areas. Perhaps he had a boy look. Perhaps he had no imagination. Perhaps Lennon was right, he really is a "stupid git". The Thames is just a larger version of the Yarra in Melbourne, or the Brisbane in, you guessed it, Brisbane. A boiling mass of brown water. Unattractive and uninviting. Although the colour suits the grey of London.

The Thames on earth. Um, yeah, why not.

Another confession, dear reader. While I struggle with the excess of religion and its wanton waste, I am fascinated by the beauty of the churches that were built and adorned while people died of starvation and plague. Of course the historical aspect is always a drawcard too.

They love a big organ. Who doesn't?

Given the age of the Cathedral, there were many tombstones embedded in the floor but many were almost smooth from passing foot traffic. There was also a memorial to Shakespeare inside the Cathedral and a statue in the grounds. Apparently he was a local parishioner back in the day.

The Shakespeare memorial.

The garden outside, where Will was sitting on a bench contemplating life, revealed a robin not far away. That was exciting for a bird nerd, although I'm not sure you could call the breast red. 

Orange?

There was also a cheeky fox who cared not a jot that there were people around. He garnered much excitement from within the garden area and without. Cameras were thrust through the iron fence to capture its image. Meanwhile the mangy creature sat and scratched at his fleas, totally unconcerned.

A bit too comfortable for mine.

The Cathedral also has a cat, Doorkins Magnificat (mark 2 - the original having met his maker in 2020), that may or may not have been responsible for the dead rat in the garden. We spotted him lying comfortably behind the baptismal font. The cat, not the rat. His importance to the Cathedral community is made abundantly clear from both the tour guide brochure and also the vast array of cat themed merch that adorns the ubiquitous gift shop on the way out. Indeed, two other visitors asked the guides where Doorkins might be found. We happily assisted them.

Will watches it all and records it for later.

It is apparent, in London at least, that when school is in, it is actually out. We came across school groups in Greenwich yesterday. Today there were school groups at the markets. Not just one, but many and also inside the Cathedral.

The Southwark Tavern

On our last day on the ground in London we thought we would eat at an old school London pub. The Southwark fit the bill. It was 10 minutes walk from the hotel, had original stained glass windows, served 'traditional fish and chips' (which we didn't eat) and had Guinness on tap (which we did drink).

In the early part of this century when we first visited London, the menu at the pub was fish and chips, chicken tikka and butter chicken. How the world has changed. No chicken tikka or butter chicken on the menu anywhere I looked. Pubs now consider themselves 'gastro'. This apparently is a good thing and not related to gastroenteritis which is not a good thing comes from eating bad food.

We had a Guinness and breaded halloumi chips while we decided what to eat for the main meal of the day. How have I not experienced breaded halloumi chips before? Amazing.

The food was good. The wine list was smaller than Peter Dutton's popularity rating, although unlike Dutton's rating, it was adequate. The only drawback was the intimate nature of the space. This is normally a good thing. Unless there are people who feel the need to talk at the TOP OF THEIR VOICES. Everytime they contribute to a conversation. And it is always (generalised statement) young women. When she was participating in the talk at her table I couldn't hear the music.

Another box ticked. It was back to the hotel.

And that's enough for now. The next post will be from the Viking Venus. I'm so tired.

Until then.